Falling Leaves

ENDING MY “ROLL” WITH THE BEST=!

House of Heart

The blue sky has acquiesced to cold grey arches.

There is little tending to severed leaves detached

by laws of seasons past.

What remains is a collection of treasures stacked

behind a dozing spider, clay pots, a rusty kiln, worn brushes.

Warm breath on sculptor’s bones ease her aching hands

until she is malleable once more.

Bent and shaped into her own likeness

if she is diligent in the Spring she will bloom again.

Translation by Bernd Hutschenreuther

Im Frühling werden wir wieder blühen

Der blaue Himmel hat die
kalten grauen Bögen angenommen.
Wenig nur neigt er, sich
trauernder Düsternis zu ergeben,
Wir fallen von den Bäumen,
getrieben vom Gesetz der Jahreszeiten,
der Vergangenheit entfliehend, getrennt von
der Gegenwart.
Unser Schicksal ist die harte Erde,
Wir sind der Sonne verloren.
Eine düstere Sammlung vergessener Schätze.
Sie greift nach den Tontöpfen
und der dösenden schwarzen Witwe
Auf der Suche nach einer…

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About Jonathan Caswell

Mr. Caswell has been composing poetry at least since High School. He has been on WORD PRESS for ten years and contributes to two other blogs beside this one. This blog has a Christian emphasis but all bloggers are welcome. Mr. Caswell chooses to---with permission--re[post material of interest

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